Is Love Alive?
by movieholic
Summary: “One: No apology necessary-I'm not due one. Two: I like boats, a lot,” he added with a widening smile, “And if you have room for one more, I'd be glad to join you in yours.”
1. Chapter 1

The continuous gunfire that came from Tony's computer echoed in the darkness of the "Team Gibbs" squad room. He flinched when a particularly loud _bang_ ripped through the empty room, and instinctively glanced around for Gibbs. Laughing softly at his paranoia, he hunched back over his desk and lost himself in the video game even more deeply than before.

Seconds later, Tony yelped when he felt a familiar hand connect with the back of his head. Quickly turning his monitor off, Tony wheeled his chair around and cheerfully greeted Gibbs with a sheepish, "Hey, boss!"

"DiNozzo," he drawled, his face stern but an amused twinkle lit his eyes. He stepped around the partition separating himself from his agent and made his way to his desk, ever present coffee in hand. Settling himself in his seat, he took a slow sip before asking, "Whaddya doing here?"

"Worki-" Tony began, but Gibbs' raised brow cut him off. He slouched in his seat and conceded to the truth. "Playing video games."

Furrowing his brow, Gibbs leaned forward and nearly demanded, "Don't you have a home to go to, DiNozzo? Or a girl to see?" He added the last part behind a large gulp of caffeine.

Tony grinned and ignored the teasing jab. "Of course, boss. I was just, well..." he trailed off and scratched his head. "I don't know."

"Playing video games?" suggested Gibbs, as he began powering his computers up and pulling files of his cabinets. When Tony didn't respond, he peered over his monitors and looked pointedly at the younger man.

Feeling his boss' stare, Tony straightened in his seat. "Sorry boss, I must've spaced out."

"Don't apologize, DiNozzo, it's a-"

"Sign of weakness," he finished, but quickly blushed when he saw Gibbs pause at the interruption. "Sor-" he cut himself off and hit the back of his own head gently.

Gibbs smirked and proceeded to continue his early morning rituals. After several minutes, Tony glanced at his watch and sighed. Pushing his chair back and under his desk, he began making his way out of the squad and towards the elevators.

"Heading to grab some breakfast, boss. You want anything?"

Rather than answer directly, Gibbs held up his coffee container and shook it. Tony nodded and pushed the down button, his stomach growling when he considered his options of food. He jumped back when Ziva and McGee, who were arguing over something, stepped out.

"Hey, watch where you're going!" DiNozzo cried, straightening his tie as he took moved into the elevator. Ziva made a face as McGee ignored him, continuing his discussion with the Israeli assassin.

They slung their backpacks off as they reached their desks, before clicking on their lamps and beginning their extremely early morning work.

Several hours later, when the sun finally begin filtering rays of welcomed light into the bullpen, Gibbs phone rang and he answered with his usual, "Yeah, Gibbs."

After listening intently, Gibbs disconnected the call and began grabbing his gun and badge. "Grab your gear. Dead Marine."

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**TBC...**

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	2. Chapter 2

Rounding the body of their Marine, Tony tossed the camera to McGee and demanded he finished taking the rest of the pictures. He raised his arms above his head and stretched, stifling a yawn as he scanned the surrounding area. Tony could clearly see his boss, pad and pencil in hand, questioning a frightened young woman, and the familiar figure of Ducky ambling towards them, Jimmy Palmer in tow. Ziva was studying the sidewalk where the crime took place, directly outside a family owned grocery.

"Good morning, Anthony." Ducky greeted upon reaching the working trio. He glanced down at the body and sighed, "Well not for this young man, I suppose." He knelt down and began his usual probing with Palmer by his side, offering tools as Ducky called for them.

"Hiya Duck," Tony responded, before turning to scan the crowds once more, squinting his eyes against the sun. He noticed Gibbs had finished questioning his share of the witnesses, and had begun striding back over towards them, his limp a little more noticeable.

Tony quickly retrieved the camera from McGee and proceeded to act as if he were working diligently, leaving McGee confused until he looked up into a pair of blue eyes. "Uh, boss, I was, uh...I was working and Tony-"

"Yes, McGee?" Tony looked up from where he was crouched, camera posed before his nose and his face the picture of innocence.

Gibbs only smirked and turned to face his old friend. "Whaddya got Duck?"

"Good morning to you too, Jethro," Ducky good-naturedly greeted the other man. "I am fine, thank you for asking. Although, it is more than I can say for this poor fellow," his teasing smile faded as he withdrew the thermometer and announced. "Judging from the blood coagulation and liver temperature, I'd say your Marine has been dead for at least two hours, Jethro."

Gibbs nodded as he jotted something down, before responding, "Matches witness statements."

"Gibbs, I've found some blood splatter over here." Ziva knelt next to her find, near the entrance of an alley a few yards away from the fallen Marine. Gibbs snapped his fingers at DiNozzo, who trotted over and began snapping away.

"Spatter, Ziva, that's blood spatter." Tony corrected as he continued working.

Ziva scrunched her nose as she turned to him. "What is the difference?"

Lowering the camera, he said, "Well spatter is where-Ow! Back to work boss!" Tony cried, ignoring Ziva's smirk.

"As if you were working in the first place, DiNozzo." Gibbs grunted, hiding an amused smile of his own. He knelt beside his agents, craning his neck to look down the alley and the surrounding buildings. "Looks like our Marine wandered down this way after being shot, calling for help according to some statements..." Gibbs glanced at his notes, holding them a good distance away from his face since he refused to wear his reading glasses. He followed the trail of blood with his eyes, until they rested on the lifeless body. "...until he finally wound up here."

He reread some of his notes as Ziva and Tony continued collecting and photographing evidence. Ducky called Gibbs over, and both of the agents noticed the flare of pain flash across their boss' face when he stood. Glancing at one another, they shrugged and got back to work.

"You got a cause of death for me, Ducky?"

"Well, without giving a proper full body autopsy, I'd rather not speculate-"

"Duck-" Gibbs began in his weary, but warning, tone of voice.

"_But_," Ducky smiled as he stretched the word, "I can say without a reasonable doubt that this Marine died of a gunshot to the cranium. I'm shocked at how far he managed to travel with such a grave wound. It actually reminds me of this time back..."

Gibbs drowned out his friend's voice as he glanced over his shoulder, towards the alley, and murmured under his breath. "I'm not surprised. He's a Marine."

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	3. Chapter 3

After Ducky's confirmation of death, they figured out their Marine was a Gunnery Sergeant Henry Jamison, by the license they found in his wallet (no cash or credit cards). He had arrived stateside from Iraq two weeks ago. With McGee's computer expertise, they found the location of Henry Jamison's home, where his wife and son resided.

Gibbs silently pointed to DiNozzo, and they both made their ways to the elevator, mentally preparing themselves for the disheartening visit to the widow. Noting that his agent was exhausted, Gibbs opted to drive without speaking, normally doing so anyway.

Arriving at the Jamison residence fairly quickly, due to Gibbs manic driving skills, the pair stood outside the door and finally found the will to knock. A wind began to pick up, swirling their jackets as they waited, blowing their hair back.

"Hello? Can I help you?"

That was all she said, and Tony DiNozzo knew that despite the situation they were in, his boss had fallen for her. It was his eyes that gave it away. But of course, Gibbs controlled his thoughts as he whipped out his identification and announced that he was "Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, and this is Special Agent DiNozzo."

_Full name?_ Tony thought as he smiled sadly at the attractive woman before him. She was in her late forties, but held a graceful beauty about her. Tall, attractive, and a red-head. _Ah._

"Please, please come in." She held open the door and allowed the two men to enter. Motioning towards the living room, she offered them seats and inquired as to whether or not they'd like coffee. "Black, Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs?" She had assumed that he told her his full name because he would like for her to use it, otherwise, what was the point?  
Smiling, almost shyly, Gibbs nodded and thanked her. "And it's Jethro," he added as she stood to retrieve the beverages.

Returning, she settled on the edge of the couch she had to herself, and replied, "You're a Marine, I can tell."

"Yes ma'am," he replied, before taking a sip from his hot drink. Finally, he placed the mug on the table before them and began. "Mrs. Jamison-"

"It's Elizabeth, please..." she looked down at the cup she clutched in both her hands before tearily adding, "And it's Cassel, not Jamison. Henry and I are-were, divorced."

Pausing, Gibbs eyes narrowed and he leaned forward slightly. Tony remained silent, allowing Gibbs to control the conversation. "You just changed the tense, from 'are' to 'were'...you know Gunnery Sergeant Jamison is dead?"

Stifling a small sob, Elizabeth nodded. "I just knew it, as soon as I saw you two outside...and the badges, N.C.I.S.."

"Is there any other reason why you believed your husband was dead?"

"We're divorced, but Henry still lives here, for Jessie's sake. He's our son." Gibbs nodded his acknowledgment, urging her to continue with a softening look. "He told us he was going to go out and buy more Gatorade," at Gibbs confused expression, she quickly explained, "Our son, Jessie, he plays a lot of sports. He's very active, and Gatorade is his favorite beverage..." she trailed off, tears lining her eyes. "Anyway, he was gone for so long and I just had this feeling..."

"And then we show up." Gibbs finished, taking a small courtesy sip from his coffee.

"Yes," she murmured. Dabbing at her eyes with a tissue she had procured from her nearby purse. Gathering her breath, she asked, "How did he die?"

Tony leaned forward and softly replied, "Gun shot wound, ma'am. It looks like your husband was forced to enter the alley beside the the store, mugged, then killed. He managed to return outside the store, despite the severity of the wound." Looking at Gibbs to make sure he was all right to continue, he also said, "But until we have all witness statements and video surveillance tapes compiled, that's only a working theory."

"Always a Marine," she whispered loud enough for Gibbs to hear, who smiled sadly in response. He needed to gather his thoughts, quell his wobbly knees and get down into the questioning. He was not looking forward to further upsetting this woman.

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**TBC...**

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	4. Chapter 4

Arriving at the Navy Yard late that night, Tony gathered his things together and waited by his desk impatiently. When Gibbs finally looked up from where he settled behind his desk, he eyed the younger agent up and down. "Something you want, DiNozzo?"

Lighting up, Tony strolled over to his boss' desk and nodded. "As a matter of fact, boss, I was just wondering if I could-"

"Pack up? Go home?" Gibbs stood up slowly, his expression unwavering. "How about doing your _job_, DiNozzo? We have a _dead_ Marine, _no_ suspects, and _no_ leads." Rounding his desk, he stood tall before Tony, his blue eyes boring into the other man's. "So what exactly did you want to do again, DiNozzo?"

Visibly sagging his broad shoulders, Tony turned on his heel and trudged to his desk. "Nothing, boss." Gibbs allowed a smile to skate across his face before returning to his chair, only to grab his phone when it began to ring.

"Yeah, Gibbs." He answered in his usual gruff manner. Straightening in his seat, he turned his head to the side and asked, "How are you Mrs. Jamison?" With a soft laugh, Gibbs nodded and replied, "Excuse me, I mean 'how are you Elizabeth?'"

Tony leaned forward, his eyes glued to his computer screen as if he was working diligently. He thoroughly enjoyed watching his boss interacting with romantic interests, he tended to differ from his rough demeanor when he was waking to a warm body in the wee hours of the morning. Mentally slapping himself from his straying thoughts, Tony quickly glanced up and watched as Gibbs smiled and nodded to whatever Elizabeth Cassel had said.

"Sure, I can do that. No, it's no problem at all. Ya-huh," he smirked and snatched up a pen and post-it note. Jotting something down, he cradled the phone between his ear and shoulder as he snapped his fingers and motioned for DiNozzo to come over.

Tony lept to his feet and made his way to Gibbs' side. "Yeah, boss?" he whispered, aware of the phone and the consequences of bothering him while on it.

Gibbs tapped the small piece of paper, and the younger man snatched it up and quickly backtracked to his desk. "_American City Diner_? Never heard of it." He felt the steady glare Gibbs was casting his way, and quickly scribbled down what his boss wanted. "Got the address boss," he stated, waving the slip in the air and barely suppressing a flinch when Gibbs forcefully plucked it from his fingers. "You're welcome...?" he meekly called out at the older man's quickly retreating back.

Slumping in his chair, Tony began pushing stray papers around his desk, bored. He perked up when he saw Gibbs stop by the elevator and take a few steps back his way.

"Forget something, boss?"

"Yeah...pack up. Go home, DiNozzo." Gibbs paused and then nodded, as if confirming his orders. Turning back, he sauntered towards the elevators and slid in easily, smirking as the doors closed on Tony's cheerful shout.

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**TBC...**

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	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: American City Diner is a real place, however I do not know a thing about it. Please do not be offended, locals of DC!**

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The dinging of a bell announced Gibbs entrance into the _American City Diner_, a well established place that tourists particularly enjoyed. The diner was well lit, and illuminated the few souls that dared to venture out that time of night for shakes and burgers. Gibbs scanned the room, and smiled softly when his eyes settled on a familiar red-headed figure several booths away.

He strode over and gently placed his hand on Elizabeth's shoulder. "This seat taken?" he asked, gesturing to the empty seat across from her.

Recovering from her slight start, she smiled and nodded. "It is now," she laughed softly, watching as Gibbs settled in before her. Elizabeth placed her hands on the white table top, caressing one hand with the other as she bit her bottom lip. "Do you always stare like that?" she questioned, finally looking up when the silence became unbearable.

"Yep," he stated, giving her a curt nod.

"You always talk this much?"

This time a soft laugh joined the monosyllabic answer. "Yep."

Once more a silence descended over their corner booth, broken only twice by a waitress taking their orders, then bringing his coffee and her tea. Clinking spoons and sips soon filled the air, until Gibbs placed his mug back down and settled back into his seat.

"There anything you'd like to talk about?"

Elizabeth sighed and lowered her gaze. "I really don't know what to say...I can't believe Henry is-" she stopped and stirred the spoon in her own mug. "It's all very surreal."

Gibbs nodded, trying to keep his mind focused on the present, and not his past. "I know," he whispered anyway, mentally slapping himself as well.

Her hazel eyes snapped up to search his face, narrowing as they attempted to find the hidden meaning behind that statement. Clearing his throat, Gibbs' blue eyes focused and he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table.

"Mrs.-" he cut himself short at her raised eyebrow, and quickly corrected himself. "Elizabeth...I'm sorry for your loss." The hesitancy at the word "sorry" was not lost on both parties, but Elizabeth decided that she would approach that at another time, assuming there was one.

"Look, Jethro, I love Henry...I mean, I loved him. But we were divorced...I just, I think what I'm trying to say is..." she faltered with an annoyed huff, raking her fingers through her hair.

Gibbs smiled knowingly and gently grabbed her free hand. "I know," this time he said it firmly, a twinkle in his blue eyes. "If I'm not being too, presumptuous, I'd like to start by getting to know you better."

Laughing, this time more sincerely, she replied, "You mean those background checks don't actually tell you _everything_?"

"Nah," he shook his head. "Just the basics."

"Hmm."

Once more silence settled over the two. It was then Gibbs noticed that his hand was still clasping Elizabeth's slender one. He also noticed that his thumb had been moving on its on accord, caressing the milky white skin underneath it. Pretending he didn't know, he continued his ministrations as Elizabeth broke the silence.

"So, _Jethro..._where _does_ one pick up that name?"

A deep chuckle was her answer.

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	6. Chapter 6

Gibbs lie underneath his beloved boat, one arm propping his head as the other rested across his stomach. Glancing at his watch, he grunted at the time and closed his eyes, willing sleep to come. After several minutes of shifting and annoyed mutters, Gibbs finally sat up and rested against the sturdy frame of his pet project.

He couldn't sleep, but his mind had no problem running with several "What if's?" scenarios involving a certain redhead. Scrubbing his face with the calloused palms of both his hands, Gibbs heaved a sigh and tilted his head back. Feeling rather guilty and ashamed, he threw his legs over the side of his boat and grabbed the nearest jar on his workbench.

Dumping out the nails and screws within it, Gibbs then proceeded to swipe a cloth inside of the glass before pouring himself a healthy share of bourbon. Downing it without a second thought, he cleared his throat as the familiar burn made its way down his throat and warmed his stomach, before pouring himself another. This time he wandered over towards a cabinet across the room and placed a hand over it carefully, resting the full glass of bourbon on the counter top underneath it.

Finally, he opened it slowly and pulled out the worn tape player and gently placed it beside the glass. Staring at it wide eyed, he took a step back and hesitantly pushed the play button with a heavy sigh. Grabbing his glass, he sipped it slowly as a familiar tune rang out in the dark basement.

_Think about Shannon...think about Kelly...you don't want to fail yet another woman like you failed them, do you? _

He grumbled in response to his thoughts as he resumed his position underneath the skeleton of his boat, glass resting on his stomach, arm under his head. It dawned on Gibbs that Elizabeth sparked thoughts like those in him. Although he cared for his other wives, despite the pain some of them had literally inflected upon him, he never dared to compare them to his past love. He knew, deep down, that they were all redheaded replacements for what he had lost years ago.

Despite the suffocating depression that settled in his bones from listening to the laughter of his late wife and child echo in the night, Gibbs felt he needed more. He needed to feel overwhelming sad in order to mask what he was afraid of admitting about Elizabeth. He couldn't fall for her, it wouldn't be fair, especially knowing that she would never be first in his heart.

Pushing himself up and away from the boat, Gibbs stopped the tape as he neared the end and sauntered towards the opposite side of the room. Gathering the glass and bottle of bourbon in his hands, he glanced at each item before placing the now empty jar down and carrying the bottle upstairs with him.

When he entered his kitchen, Gibbs placed the bourbon on the tabletop and turned on his heel, heading back down towards the basement and away from the dark temptation. Returning back to the cabinet that housed his beloved memory of his family, he reached up high and gently pulled down several tapes, each covered in a thick layer of dust. Smiling sadly, he remembered how Shannon always insisted on recording every moment she could, despite protests from her technology challenged husband.

_"You never know, Jethro, what you have till it's gone."_

This time tears welled up in his blue eyes, and he slammed them closed, refusing to allow any to slip. Palming one tape, he took a deep, steadying breath and made his way to his one and only television set. Uncovering a nearby VCR that was already hooked up, he silently thanked whoever took it upon themselves for doing so and placed the first tape in.

_Probably DiNozzo,_ he thought as he conjured as much information and knowledge he could think of on how to work the contraption before him.

Turning on the TV and VCR, Gibbs changed it to channel 5 and watched as the blue screen flickered to black. Stepping away from the television set, he sat underneath his boat once more, eyes wide and glued to the screen, throat sore from the large lump in the middle of it.

_"...gonna buy you a horse and cart...and if that horse and cart fall down...you'd still be the sweetest, little baby in town...Hey Shan," _a younger Gibbs smiled lovingly at the woman behind the camera. It zoomed in on the man cradling a young child, brown hair long and splayed across her father's broad chest. The young Gibbs glanced at the sleeping child and looked up, _"Whaddya doin' up, sweetheart? It's late."_

Present Gibbs' throat constricted tighter when the voice of Shannon responded, "_No, Jethro, it's Christmas."_

A soft laugh, one present Gibbs had felt he hadn't gave sincerely since those times, filtered into the basement. _"It's also 0300. Go back to bed, Shan, I'll be there soon."_

_"You'd better, Marine..." _she had whispered, voice full of love as she had filmed her husband and daughter in the wee hours of Christmas morning.

Gibbs closed his eyes as the first tape stopped, and this time he had allowed a single tear to skate freely down his cheek. He remembered that night, so many years ago. The quiet, yet passionate love making that had ensued, the laughter and joy of his daughter's first Christmas...the news that he had received later that evening telling him he'd be shipping off again for yet another overseas mission.

"Elizabeth," he muttered, remembering the woman that made him want to punish himself. He didn't want to fall for her, he hated that she had made him feel as happy as he did then...guilty that someone other than Shannon could instill that feeling in him. Believing himself thoroughly punished for the night, Gibbs cleaned up after himself and made his way back upstairs when everything was set and away in the basement. Glancing with something akin to longing at the bourbon resting on the kitchen counter, Gibbs shook his head and decided that the couch would make a great bed for this evening.

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	7. Chapter 7

Striding into the bullpen, coffee in hand per usual, Gibbs cast a casual glance at his early subordinates. Settling himself behind his desk, he set his coffee down after a small sip and looked expectantly at the others.

"Uh, morning Gibbs." McGee began, looking over at his coworkers with a small smile. However, the slight tilt of Gibbs' head told the baby faced man that that was not what the older man wanted to hear. Nervously, McGee shuffled some papers around on his desk before glancing at Tony for help.

"Don't worry McNervous," Tony announced as he stood and approached Gibbs desk. "I have some answers right here boss," he claimed, placing some papers in his boss' hands. As he looked them over, Tony pointed out the highlighted facts. "Ah, video footage proves our theory correct...after G.S. Jamison exited the store, a figure approached-" the steady glare peering over the pieces of paper cut Tony off short. "You'd rather see it, then read it, right boss? Of course," he snapped his fingers at McGee, who had recovered enough from his nervous blunder to pull up the security footage.

By now, Ziva had rounded her desk and joined Tony and McGee before the large plasma. As DiNozzo began explaining again, they realized that Gibbs was not with them. The trio turned together to see Gibbs reclining in his seat, eyes focused on the plasma nearest his desk. Raising concerned eyebrows at one another when they saw Gibbs subconsciously rubbing his knee, the reason why he was still sitting they assumed. McGee transferred the video to the other screen and stepped back to allow Tony to take the reigns again.

"Where was I? Oh right," Tony pointed at the figure of G.S. Jamison exiting the store, hands laden with bags, before another, much smaller figure approached him. "Now, we can't see the perp's face, but we can assume that he is younger and carrying a weapon. He forces our G.S. into the alley, where we don't know what was said or done...then," fast forwarding a few minutes revealed the fatally injured Gunny clutching his head after stumbling from the alley. Tony paused it after the man had fallen, dead, on the sidewalk.

"Where are the bags?" Gibbs asked, his voice low. The team looked at him wide eyed.

"Ah, wh-what bags Boss?" McGee questioned.

"The grocery bags Gunnery Sergeant Jamison was carrying before he was killed, McGee." Gibbs growled, removing his hand from his knee when he realized for himself that he was rubbing the aching joint. Sitting up straighter, he hoped that the others hadn't seen it, but knew that they had. "Where are they?"

Ziva shook her head. "We do not know, Gibbs. The suspect must have taken them."

With a smirk, Tony began saying, "Well actually, Zee-va, he isn't a suspect becau-"

Whatever Tony had been saying was cut off by Gibbs slamming his hand on his desk as he snapped, "DiNozzo!" The younger man clammed up quickly, as the McGee bit back a whimper and Ziva lifted a questioning brow. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Gibbs took a deep breath before standing up, placing full weight on his hurting knee in order to maintain his failing, pain free facade. With a more noticeable limp than before, Gibbs swept past his team as he shouted over his shoulder. "Find where the bags went, and you find our damn shooter!"

Gathering his courage, DiNozzo took a few steps forward and called back, "Boss? Are you okay?" He ignored the near gasping sound McGee made and Ziva's rolling of her eyes. The older man stopped, swayed on his feet, and turned back so quickly that he was nose to nose with his younger agent before anyone could utter a word.

"Something wrong, Agent DiNozzo?" he growled, his blue eyes reflecting the pain that he refused to admit to.

Glancing pointedly at Gibbs' knee, Tony looked back up and shrugged. "You tell me, boss."

An expected head slap was punctuated by a finger pointing in DiNozzo's face. "You worry about the case, not me. Understand?" Truth be told, Gibbs appreciated the concern from his best agent, but the night of sorrow that led him to his couch, led him back underneath his boat. Despite his love for his handmade project, it was nowhere near as comfortable as sleeping in a bed, much less a couch. However, the night of despair was not as over as Gibbs had initially thought, so he wound back in his basement and under his boat, which did nothing to assuage the occasional aching in his once injured knee. But Gibbs was not about to share that bit of his life with anyone, especially his agents.

"_Understand_?" Gibbs raised his hand, as if he were going to cuff DiNozzo on the back of the head again. His blue eyes glittered with pain, because try as he might, Gibbs knew his eyes could never lie. He could force himself to appear 100% on the outside if he so wished, but the thoughts of his past family, Elizabeth, and the case were overtaking the need to mask his obvious limp.

"Understand, boss." Tony stated, his green eyes boring into Gibbs', trying to force the other man to admit to his pain. To ask for help, even if it were for something as simple as an Advil. It would never happen, but the foolish part of Tony couldn't help but try. _I'm sure Ducky would tell me it has something to do with an deep seated issue from my childhood, or whatever..._

Setting his jaw, Gibbs took a deliberate step back. "Get to work." His blue eyes cast over the other two agents, before he carefully turned and made his way back out.

Facing the solemn looking Ziva and McGee, Tony gave them a disarming smile and clapped his hands. "Well, come on, guys!" he could pretend it didn't happen, it wasn't unusual for him to get head slapped anyway. But that one, for whatever reason, bothered the team more than before. Maybe because it was earned by caring for someone, rather than a DiNozzo comment. Shaking their heads, and gathering their bearings, the team settled in and began working harder than before to catch the young man who committed this murder.

Several hours later, Gibbs returned from a brief visit with Ducky, after Abby noticed his limp and literally cuffed and dragged him down to autopsy. However, Gibbs couldn't deny that the pain medication Ducky gave him made his knee feel a lot better than before. Drumming his fingers around the signature coffee cup he grasped, he took a careful sip of the hot liquid before pausing several yards away from his bullpen. He decided to watch for a minute or two, before making his presence known.

"Probie!" Tony cried, leaping from his desk as he suddenly came up with an idea. "Why don't you do your techno-McMagic and get a close-up of our perp's face?" his voice was full of glee as he pumped his arm in the air, as if he were a genius.

Ziva stifled a laugh as she looked up from her computer screen, while McGee smirked. "All ready on it, Tony. I've been running our perp's picture through as many databases as I could think of. He's gotta be in here, somewhere." The younger man gazed lovingly at his computer, ignoring Tony's disgusted groan.

"Ziva!" Gibbs smiled to himself as he watched how take-charge Tony acted whenever he wasn't around. "What are you working on?"

Turning her screen so he could see, she replied, "I am going through the filed statements we collected from the Cassel's and witnesses at the scene, and compiling like information for a composite of our criminal. Someone must know him, from somewhere. What are you working on, Tony?" she smiled smugly at his expression.

Gibbs took this as his cue, strolling in before Tony could answer as he reiterated, "Yeah, DiNozzo. Just what _are_ you working on?"

"Well, McGee's running a pi-"

Gibbs neared the taller man and smiled knowingly. "I didn't ask what McGee is doing, now did I?" At Tony's expression, he shook his head and returned to his desk. "McGee-"

"Yes, boss?" McGee eagerly turned to face his superior.

"...put the picture up on the plasma," and before the probie could, he pointed at his plasma and called out, "This one, Tim."

The three agents exchanged looks as Tim smiled widely at the use of his first name, doing as he was told. They also noted the lighter mood their boss was in, and the lack of a limp. Gibbs stood and studied the picture. It revealed a young man, in his mid to late teens, with dark hair mostly concealed by a large, hooded sweater. Dark glasses framed his youthful face, and Gibbs could barely see a small grouping of freckles on each cheek. Suddenly Gibbs sighed heavily as he pointed at a logo on the killer's hoodie.

"What the heck is that?" he demanded, though he was too annoyed to be fully angry.

"It looks to be a picture," Ziva surmised, brown eyes squinted as she looked.

"I think it's a knight, boss," McGee stated, pulling his head away from the screen as Tony snapped his fingers.

"It _is_ a knight! A Ballou Knight, to be exact!" Tony suddenly felt triumphant once more. At the others confused expressions, and Gibbs more impatient one, he continued. "I like to catch some of the local high school games on the tube every now and then, ya know, reminiscence about ol' times and..." he trailed off when Gibbs raised a brow. "Anyway, one of the top teams are the Ballou Knights High School football team! Man, their quarterback? Hell of an arm, boss, I mean you gotta see this kid throw!" Tony whistled as he reenacted a play, pretending to throw a football.

"Oh yeah?" Gibbs feigned interest, before he jabbed a finger at the screen. "Why the hell are we just noticing it now? Ziva, McGee, go check out the school. DiNozzo," his eyes narrowed when they landed upon the now sheepish agent. "If I'm not mistaken, Mrs. Cassel's son _is_ the quarterback for the Knights...call them over, I'd like to speak to them."

Momentarily shocked at the news, seeing as he was completely in awe by this talented young quarterback, he made the proper calls and waited behind his desk for further orders. Gibbs, armed with more information on the Cassel family than the others due to his late night chat with Elizabeth, knew that the young quarterback enjoyed pizza..._very _much so.

"And Tony? Order some pizza will ya?" Gibbs stood and made his way out of the bullpen as DiNozzo smiled enthusiastically. "I'll be in the cafeteria, call me when they get here."

"On it, boss!" Tony nearly laughed, pizza always got excited when pizza was involved.

An hour later, Gibbs entered the conference room after DiNozzo alerted him to the arrival of the two. Smiling charmingly at Elizabeth, he turned to face the young man before him. Tall, nearly as tall as him, with hazel eyes and dark brown brown hair. There were two notable scars on his face, on the eyelid and on his lip. Lips that were currently pulled back in an annoyed scowl.

"Hi, you must be Jessie. I'm Jethro." He held out his hand to shake Jessie's, who took it hesitantly. From the way the younger man sneered, Gibbs knew there was going to be a remark on his name. As they sat themselves around the table, Jessie's athletic body straightened in his seat, which made Gibbs proud somehow.

"Jethro? That's a dog's name," he remarked, green eyes flashing as he dared Gibbs to do something about his attitude.

"Jessie Ethan!" Elizabeth admonished, before smiling apologetically at Gibbs. "Sorry, Jethro. He just misses his father...."

"Understandable, Elizabeth." Gibbs motioned for Tony to come over, who did so obediently. "DiNozzo, bring the pizza up here will ya? And my coffee. Anything to drink?" the others shook their heads, one more reluctantly than the other. "Ookay."

"Can we get this over with?" snapped Jessie, folding his muscular arms across his chest.

"Sure," Gibbs smiled. Leaning forward he said, "I heard you play football, Jessie, is that true? Ballou Knights, Quarterback?"

Smirking, Jessie sat up even straighter, pride instilled in his posture. "Damn straight. Best one they're ever gonna see."

"Jessie!" Elizabeth snapped, but Gibbs' raised hand calmed her down.

"That right? Ya know, I played ball too, back in high school. Matter of fact, I think I was #7 too." Gibbs smiled fondly at the memory, but more so at the peaking interest from the young man.

"Yeah? What position?" Jessie leaned forward, fully interested now.

"Quarterback," Gibbs smirked. He smiled wider at Jessie's astonished expression, he may have acted tough, but this teenager was still very much a kid at heart.

"Whoa! How creepy is that, man?" he laughed and glanced over at his mother, who seemed highly amused by the entire conversation. Clearing his throat, he decided to take charge again, the man of his family now. "So, Jethro right? What can we do for ya?"

"Let's talk shop, huh? All right, I called in you both in to see if you recognized the young man in this photo." Gibbs pressed the button Tony had told him to earlier, which brought the photo up on the big screen before them.

"Jessie," gasped Elizabeth, clutching her son's arm. "That looks like-"

"Ma!" he interrupted, the bond of brotherhood flaring up. "Don't."

"Something you'd like to share with me?" Gibbs glanced at both people, one stubbornly set and the other pale white. Before he could add anything further, or they respond, Tony made his way in with coffee and pizza, whistling a jaunty tune.

"Pizza, and cafe, boss." His smile faded when he noticed he must've walked in the middle of a breakthrough. "Why do I suddenly feel like I'm breaking Rule # 22?"

Eyes narrowed, Gibbs stood as Jessie did, though his glare was directed at his agent. "Leaving now, boss!" he cried, exiting quickly, before returning just as fast. "Ya know, I haven't eaten all day, boss, and I was just wonderin-"

"DiNozzo! Out. Now!" Gibbs shouted.

"Right, sorry boss!" he head slapped himself with a sheepish grin as he left.

"Don't apologize," Gibbs grumbled underneath his breath as he turned to face the angry and protective Jessie. "Jessie, we both know that _you_ know something...that you know who that is. He killed your father, Jessie, and you're willing to protect him? Why? Who is he to you?"

"A damn good friend, _Agent _Gibbs." The teen threw a dark look over his shoulder, towards his shocked mother. Looking back at Gibbs, he snarled, "We done? Because I may not know much, but my father was a Marine, and my mom _is_ a criminal justice professor...so I'd like to think I know a little something about law and procedures...and I'm betting," he took a few steps forward, hazel eyes hard as they met the steely blue of Gibbs, "That you have nothing to keep us here."

Smirking, which he knew further aggravated the heated young man, Gibbs stepped back and shrugged. "You're free to go, Jessie." As he made his way towards the door, Gibbs turned to the boy's mother and asked, "Would you mind staying, Elizabeth? I have a few more questions for you."

Elizabeth, shaken by what she knew, and at the behavior of her once loving son, nodded. Jessie immediately threw himself before his mother, jaw set and nostrils flaring. "There's no way in hell she's staying, Gibbs."

"Jessie!" his mother cried, anger now lacing her voice.

Gibbs gave him an amused smile as he said, "That right, Jessie?"

"That's right."

"Why?" Gibbs rounded the table, blocking the door as he faced the two before him. "You had nothing further to say, and," Gibbs laughed purposely, "As you pointed out, I have nothing to keep you here any further. However, I have questions for your mother. That doesn't concern you, now does it, Jessie?"

"The hell is doesn't," Jessie snarled.

Tilting his head to the side, Gibbs once more smiled widely. "I feel like we've been through this before," he joked, although his darkening blue eyes signaled a rapidly closing end to the discussion. "Here's how it's gonna go, Jessie. You're going to leave this room, and your mother and I are going to talk. If you have a problem with that," he quirked a brow and leaned forward, "Tough."

Gibbs expected the fist, and dodged it as he grabbed hold of the wrist. Twisting it, and himself, until the boy had his face ground against the conference table, his arms behind his back. "You're an angry kid, ya know that?" Gibbs pulled the young man to his feet and lead him to the door, arms still pulled behind and held together. "DiNozzo!" as expected, Tony arrived in seconds, eager to please.

"Yeah boss?"

"Interrogation room, babysit. Kid gloves, DiNozzo." Gibbs smiled as Tony happily accepted his task, although he couldn't help his green eyes from gazing over the unopened pizza box. Rolling his own eyes, Gibbs sighed, "Take the pizza with ya."

"On it, boss!" Tony grabbed the box in one hand, as he grabbed the gathered wrists of Jessie in his other. "Come on kid."

Once they were gone, Gibbs turned around to face the music. However, a slap to the face was not something he'd expected from the redhead. Furrowing his brow, he opened his mouth and grumbled, "Ow! What was _that_ for?"

"That's my son you just took away! You baited him, and you and I both know it!" she cried angrily, tears in her eyes.

"I know," Gibbs claimed simply.

"You just kept aggravating him, giving him that charming smirk-" she cut herself off embarrassingly. "You didn't hear that."

Smirking purposely, Gibbs gently took her hand and led her back to her seat. Pushing her shoulders, so that she sat, he took the chair across from her and nodded. "Okay, even though I deserved the slap," he held up a hand good naturedly and cut off her protest, "I'll take that last bit as a compliment. Deal?"

She begrudgingly nodded, "Deal...I am sorry though."

"I know," he laughed softly.

"I just get so upset seeing him so angry and hateful like that..." running a hand through the red curls, she sighed. "With his father being away so often, then the divorce...it didn't help much that Henry moved back in, it was pointless. We all knew it, but...well, it doesn't matter now." Gathering her breath, she looked up with clear eyes and a small smile, "You had questions?"

"Yeah," he swiveled his chair around and pointed at the picture on the plasma. "Who is he?"

"Devon Lippy, a close friend and teammate of Jessie. You think Devon killed my ex?" she looked incredulous. "I never really was fond of the boy, but I never took him as a killer! And I'd like to think I'm pretty decent at profiling people," she now sulked, a strange yet endearing sight on someone of her age and beauty.

"Elizabeth," Gibbs sighed, "Are you positive? I mean, are you sure that's him?"

Narrowing her eyes as she studied the picture, she nodded firmly. "Yes. I'm sure."

* * *

**TBC...**

**Why is this SO long? No clue.**

**Please review, though!**


	8. Chapter 8

"I don't like you."

Tony stifled an outright laugh, and settled for a smooth chuckle. "Hmm, I would've never guessed."

Narrowing his eyes to slits, Jessie snarled, "Where's my mom?"

"With Special Agent Gibbs. Why don't you eat a slice of pizza, I hear it's your favorite." Tony bit off another piece of his third slice, motioning to the open box with his free hand.

"No thanks, pig. You can continue to stuff yourself as much as you want." Jessie smirked when Tony's once amused expression turned sour.

"You're a piece of work, kid, ya know that?"

"And you're a pile of-"

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs blew into the room, sending the agent to his feet, mouth full of pizza and eyes wide. Barely rolling his eyes, Gibbs motioned towards the door with his head, demanding Tony leave the room. "Leave the box," he said, watching as Tony wearily eyed it once again.

"Yesh, Bosh," he mumbled around his mouthful, practically dragging his feet as he left.

Waiting till he left, Gibbs took Tony's recently vacated seat and pushed the box closer to Jessie. "Go 'head, take a slice or two." When he didn't respond Gibbs drawled out, "It's free."

Rolling his eyes, Jessie reached over a plucked a greasy slice from the box, ripping into it hungrily. When he was more than halfway through, Gibbs decided to go ahead.

"I decided not to press charges against you," at Jessie's wide eyed pause, Gibbs nodded. "Oh yeah, what you did was an attempted assault of a federal officer. That's a crime, kid." Clasping his hands together, Gibbs leaned forward and continued. "But in all fairness, I did provoke you."

"So?" Jessie managed to say around his own mouthful of pizza.

"So...that means you get to help me now. I let you skate... for information on Devon Lippy." Gibbs watched carefully as Jessie stopped and slowly put his pizza down.

Swallowing his last bite, he hung his head. "You talked to mom?"

"Uh-huh."

"And she told you it was Devon in that picture?"

"Yep."

Sighing heavily, Jessie leaned back in his chair and looked at Gibbs wearily. He suddenly looked much younger than his almost eighteen years. Scrubbing his cheeks with the palms of his hands, before dragging them through his dark hair, he sighed once more.

"What do you want to know?"

Smiling softly, Gibbs cocked his head to the side. Pulling out a pad and pen from inside his jacket, he tossed them onto the table and slid them across. "I want his address and phone number," Gibbs tone of voice suddenly turned serious," Then maybe you can tell me why you were so quick to protect the person who killed your father."

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**TBC...**

**Sure it's short...but I enjoyed it.**

**Please review.**


	9. Chapter 9

"Devon Lippy? NCIS, open the door!" Tony pounded on the front door again, before turning to his boss with a shrug. "No answer Gibbs. They must not be home."

"Really, DiNozzo? I didn't notice," he sarcastically replied, before joining Tony and McGee on the porch steps. After receiving confirmation from Ziva that the back was guarded by herself, Gibbs looked at his senior agent and gestured towards the door. "Mind if I try?"

Both amused and worried for his health, Tony nodded and stepped back. "Of course, boss."

Gibbs suddenly kicked hard, smiling satisfactorily when the door cracked loudly and banged against the wall. A shout from somewhere in the house, which sounded like a curse, echoed. Gibbs smirked at the two, off guard agents behind him. "I think someone's home, DiNozzo."

"Uh, yeah boss."

Weapons drawn and badges out, the trio entered the house carefully. Gibbs heard a crash from his side, so he motioned for Tony and McGee to round the house from the opposite side. "Devon Lippy? NCIS! Come out slowly, with your hands in the air!"

On the opposite side of the house, Tony glared at McGee, who clumsily stumbled over several bags of groceries. Raising eyebrows at one another, Tony covered his partner as he checked the bags for a name. "Tony," he hissed, "It matches the store from where G.S. Jamison was at."

"I sorta figured, McObvious!" Tony also hissed back, before motioning for the probie to be quiet as Gibbs' shouting resounded off the walls.

"Devon, throw down your weapon, and put your hands up in the air!"

Tony and McGee glanced at one another quickly, before bounding towards the sound of Gibbs' voice. They entered the room carefully, maneuvering around a desk and couch to find their boss, gun drawn and carefully trained on their criminal, on the bottom of the stairs. Standing in the doorway from which they entered was a young man, back to them with his lanky arms trembling at his sides, a gun in one hand.

"Devon," Gibbs' tone dropped in volume, but did not soften. "Drop the weapon, now."

Turning around slowly, which caused McGee and Tony to quickly aim theirs guns as well, Devon faced the firing squad. "I didn't mean to kill him," he murmured, voice devoid of emotion. "I didn't know it was Mr. Jamison until we were in the alley. I just wanted his money...all I wanted was his money..." his dark eyes flickered, before he quickly drew his gun and fired once, body jerking as bullets tore through. He fell to the ground, dead.

Breathing heavily, the two younger agents shared a mixed emotion expression, before quickly and carefully removing the gun from the body and checking to make sure he was indeed dead. Ziva burst into the room, gun clasped in both of her hands.

"Is everyone okay?" she demanded, holstering her gun when she saw everything was under control. Stepping forward, she shook her head at the sight. "So young..." she murmured.

Gibbs sat himself on the last step, expressionless. "Yeah," he sighed, remembering another young child he had lost, years ago. "Yeah, he was."

* * *

**TBC...**

**I know a kid named Devon Lippy...**

**I hate his guts, however, I didn't realize I had actually used his name in this story till now...**

**Oops.**

**Please review?**


	10. Chapter 10

The agents each quietly bid their somber boss goodnight as they filed out together, with plans of drinking this case away with the inclusion stories and bar peanuts. Gibbs nodded curtly, before allowing himself long, relaxing exhale. Closing his eyes, he basked in the solace of dark and near silence of the bullpen. Gibbs threaded his fingers together, before tilting his head back and allowing them to support its weight.

The customary _ding _of the elevator announced the arrival of someone on his floor. Ignoring the urge to ask them to leave, no matter who they were, he slowly opened his eyes and relaxed. The familiar shadow before him brought comfort, rather than annoyance as he sat up calmly.

"How can I help you tonight, Elizabeth," he drawled, exhaustion evident in his voice, despite the fact he was pleased to see her.

"Jethro-" she stopped and pulled a chair over, seating herself beside his own. Cradling her purse in her lap, she looked at her hands before finding the courage to speak again. She set her jaw, hazel eyes glittering in the bit of moonshine that filtered through. "I like you."

Dumbfounded, Gibbs sat up straighter and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, despite the fact that his one knee was beginning to act up again. Before he could say anything, Elizabeth quickly hurried on.

"I'm sorry...I'm never usually so forthright, and with Henry just recently being killed, it seems awful, but..." she looked up, "But I'm not getting any younger, and Jessie needs a strong male figure in his life now, more than ever...and I'm just screwing this all up before it even starts aren't I? And here I am," she retrieved a tissue from the deep recesses of her purse and dabbed at her eyes, "Assuming there is even something to start a relationship on. For all I know, I could be in this boat on my ow-"

Despite being thoroughly amused, and unfamiliar to the feeling of being caught of guard like this, Gibbs leaned over far enough to gently press a finger to Elizabeth's lips. Giving her that charming smirk she had said she liked earlier, he licked his bottom lip and quickly sorted all of what he wanted to say, ignoring the way she patiently waited while his finger was still on her mouth.

"Elizabeth-"

"Yeah?" she whispered.

"One: No apology necessary-I'm not due one. Two: I like boats, a lot," he added with a widening smile, "And if you have room for one more, I'd be glad to join you in yours."

The tears that were threatening to fall earlier finally sprung free from her eyes, sliding down her pink cheeks. Gibbs gently wiped one away, before allowing her to fall forward in his arms. She held onto him tightly, before something wet on his sleeve caught her attention.

Pulling away slowly, she missed the flinch Gibbs made when he knew she noticed the wound. "Jethro? Is this blood?" she quickly turned the lamp on his desk on and looked at her fingers. "You're bleeding!" Pulling gently at the tattered material around the wound, she grimaced at the sight.

"I know," he murmured, grimacing when her fingers gently probed around the wound. "It's just a scratch, Elizabeth." He pulled her away carefully, "It's nothing, really."

Scowling, she shook her head and stood up. "A scratch? What am I getting myself into Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs?" her voice was full of concern, though the affection for him was blatantly obvious. Pulling him to his feet, she turned the lamp off and tugged him along. "Grab your gear. Injured Marine."

Gibbs laughed.

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**END.**

**God, I hope I didn't lose TOO many readers by this point...**

**And that I have a lot of good, pick-me-up reviews?**

**A/N: A big thank you goes to USAFChief for all of his welcome, and wonderful, help. So...thank you!  
**


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